


The Drunk and the Stupid

by CoffeeDrip



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drunk Sex, Drunken Confessions, Drunkenness, M/M, Morning After
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-03-30 03:18:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3920983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeDrip/pseuds/CoffeeDrip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A soft rapping on the door jolted him out of his investigation, as he heard Cas call his name from the other side. </p><p>“Dean, is everything ok?” And so help him if Castiel’s voice didn’t sound even more sexy with a bit of morning rasp. </p><p>“M’fine, Cas. Just gonna shower, be out in a few,” Dean responded. </p><p>“Ok. Please let me know if you see my underwear anywhere in there, I can’t seem to find them,” the other man requested. Dean groaned again, and choked out an “ok I’ll keep an eye open” before he climbed into the tiny motel shower and turned the water on as hot as he could manage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Waking up next to a warm body wasn’t anything unusual to Dean. Not being quite sure who was next to him, pressed firmly to his back, wasn’t strange either. Not even the stiff poke of a perky morning erection was all that shocking, if he was being honest. 

No, the only thing that caught Dean off guard that morning was rolling over and looking directly at the face of his best friend. Cuddled up against him, chest visibly naked, bottom possibly so. Dean wasn’t going to investigate whether or not he had anything on his lower half. 

Castiel grumbled at the movement and turned himself away from Dean to burrow further into the blankets, giving Dean a chance to scramble from the bed and hurry to the motel bathroom, swiping up his discarded boxers on the way. 

He stumbled into the bathroom, torn between slamming the door shut behind him and trying to pull his underwear on at the same time. Somehow he managed to shut the door and get the boxers back on, only to realize with a stark moment of horror that he had, in fact, grabbed Castiel’s boxers. 

Which meant that Cas had definitely been naked in the bed. With him. Also naked. 

And Cas was still naked in the bed. 

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck,” he groaned, letting his forehead drop forward against the back of the door. Not only had he woken up naked and cuddling with a fallen angel, but now he was wearing the other man’s boxers too. And, if the not unfamiliar ache in his backside was anything to go by, they were naked for a reason. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

He took a step back and sucked in a deep ragged breath, before turning to the sink and washing his face with the coldest water he could manage out of the temperamental faucet, hoping the chill would help him clear his head. 

When he lifted his head to look in the mirror, however, all of Dean’s clarity vanished as his eyes traced the lines of bite marks and hickeys that peppered him from neck to waist, dipping below the too-tight elastic of the borrowed boxers he wore. 

A soft rapping on the door jolted him out of his investigation, as he heard Cas call his name from the other side. 

“Dean, is everything ok?” And so help him if Castiel’s voice didn’t sound even more sexy with a bit of morning rasp. 

“M’fine, Cas. Just gonna shower, be out in a few,” Dean responded. 

“Ok. Please let me know if you see my underwear anywhere in there, I can’t seem to find them,” the other man requested. Dean groaned again, and choked out an “ok I’ll keep an eye open” before he climbed into the tiny motel shower and turned the water on as hot as he could manage. 

***

Sam had expected the phone call. It was no surprise when his phone flashed “DEAN” at him, and on the other end of the line, his brother was in full-blown freakout mode. 

“Dude, I just woke up beside Cas. Naked. What the fuck is going on, Sammy?” 

Sam sighed, and ran a hand through his thick hair, before responding. “What’s the last thing you remember from yesterday?” 

“We were at the bar,” Dean said after a minute of thought. “Some chick was hitting on Cas.”

“And you kept downing shots because you were jealous,” Sam added. 

“What the fuck ever, Samantha,” Dean growled back. “I don’t remember anything past that.”

“Ok, well,” Sam continued. “You kept downing shots, so no wonder you can’t remember anything. Cas was drinking too, cause that woman was coming on to him pretty strong. Finally, she tried to make a move on him, and you jumped up, grabbed him by the front of the shirt and hauled him out of the bar.” 

“Ok, well, if Cas didn’t want it, bitch should’ve backed off. Still doesn’t explain how I ended up naked in bed with the dude.” 

“Well, naturally the woman followed you outside, yelling at you the whole way, so I went too. When I got out there, she was yelling at you, and you were shouting right back. Something about how she needs to keep her skanky hands off of your angel, and how he deserved better than her, and she asked why you cared so much and you were apparently drunk enough to respond by saying that he was your best friend and you loved him…” Dean cut off the story right there. 

“Nope,” the elder Winchester argued. 

“Dean, I only had a beer and a half by this point. I’m pretty certain I remember everything,” Sam corrected him, and he heard Dean sigh on the other end of the line. 

“Ok, so what the hell happened after that?” 

“When you said you loved him, the woman told you that you should keep a better eye on your boyfriend and stormed off. And then Cas asked you if you meant what you said, and you didn’t answer him, just pulled him to you and kissed him so hard I felt filthy watching. Then the two of you stumbled back to the motel, and you told me to get another room. End of my knowledge. You guys are gonna have to figure the rest out yourselves.” Sam stopped speaking and waited to hear a response from Dean. After a long period of silence, Dean muttered “son of a bitch” and hung up. 

***

Dean had ducked outside while Cas was in the shower to call Sam. By the time he returned, the other man had finished and was just pulling on a pair of jeans, his chest bare and water still running down his neck and torso. 

“So, Sam apparently got his own room,” Dean told him as he shut the door and tried hard to look anywhere but at the rivulets of water slowly moving down the pale expanse of skin. “Erm, how much do you remember from last night?” 

Cas was now pulling on a t-shirt, and didn’t answer immediately. Dean took the opportunity to watch the other man’s muscles work as he finished dressing. 

“We went to that bar down the street. I recall being hit on rather forcefully by a woman with black hair and rather too much lipstick. She was not unattractive but I was put off by her manner. You pulled me away from her, there was an altercation in the parking lot, you professed your feelings for me, we kissed, and then we returned here and made love.” Cas rattled off the events of the night as if he was reading a restaurant menu. “I suppose that is why Sam decided to get his own room.” 

“So… everything,” Dean muttered. And shit if he wasn’t getting out of this one, apparently. Because of course Cas remembered everything. Why wouldn’t he? He might be only a fraction of the angel he was at one point - requiring sleep and food and apparently sex - but he still had some grace in there. How could Dean forget? 

Oh yeah, because Dean is a fucking idiot. 

“Yes. Do you not remember, Dean? I may have enough power to restore your memories,” and that was all Cas said before he was coming at him with his magic fingers. One touch of his fingertips and the entire night came flooding back to the hunter. 

“Damn it, Cas, you can’t just mind whammy me without warning!” He yelped. 

“My apologies, Dean. You just seemed distressed by your inability to remember the events of last evening, although it is quite normal, considering the amount of alcohol that was in your system. I am surprised you did not wake up with a considerable hangover,” Cas replied. 

Dean ran a hand over his face as he processed the onslaught of images, sensations, and words that had come rushing instantly back to him. None of what Sam said had been incorrect. 

“Hey, so, what happened last night…” Dean started, before stalling, running out of words to say. He cleared his throat and tried again. “What happened last night, I’m sorry. I was sloshed, and didn’t like the way that woman was looking at you.” 

Cas tilted his head to the side in that endearing manner he had, 

"Why are you apologizing, Dean?" He asked. "You did nothing to offend me." 

"Dude, I took advantage of you when you were drunk." 

"You know that isn't true," Cas argued. "I still have no objection to our coupling." 

Dean turned his back to the angel and dragged a hand through his hair. "Who fucking says that?" He mumbled. 

"Dean, do you regret what happened between us?" Cas gently touched Dean's back, causing him to flinch away. 

"Cas..." Dean whispered, moving toward the second bed and sitting down. "I... don't know what to think..." 

“I would not take back any of what I said or did last night, even if I was given the opportunity,” Castiel said simply, not moving toward Dean again. “Everything I said was the truth. My sister once said I was lost the moment I laid a hand on you in Hell, and that was true. I have loved you since the very beginning. If I did not, I would not have been so willing to rebel and die in your name.” 

“You shouldn’t,” Dean muttered from his perch on the bed. He had his elbows on his knees and his head braced in his hands, eyes pointed at the floor like his work boots were the most interesting thing in the world. 

“I shouldn’t what, Dean?” He heard Cas ask tentatively, shuffling forward now, but still refraining from touching him again. Dean sighed. 

“You shouldn’t love me. I don’t deserve it. I’ve never done anything worth your love. You’re an angel, Cas,” he looked up now, and made eye contact with the other man. “You’re an angel, and you shouldn’t love someone like me.” His voice was rough, choked with emotion, and his head was swirling like his hangover was just now hitting him. 

“Oh Dean,” Castiel breathed out. “You don’t think you deserve to be loved anymore than you think you deserved to be saved from Hell. And you are wrong on both counts.” 

“I’m sorry, Cas. I can’t do this right now,” Dean responded, and he shoved himself off of the motel bed and made his way out the door without another word.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean drove for about half an hour, before finally pulling off the road at one of those “scenic overlooks” that is really just a few parking places overlooking a wooded valley, with a guard rail intended to keep the drunk and the stupid from walking - or driving - over the drop. 

His phone had gone off only a couple of times, but he left it sitting on the passenger seat and got out of the Impala to go sit on the guard rail and try to clear his head. It was a clear spring morning, with just the right amount of sun and wind to be comfortable. Far above the valley, a hawk wheeled about in search of some prey, and watching it only caused his mind to drift back to Cas. 

Dean couldn’t believe that he had said all of those things to the other man, or done what they had. He had been repressing those thoughts and urges for years, he had plenty of practice, and a few beers shouldn’t have pushed him over the edge like that. He had never intended for Cas to know those things. 

He couldn’t help but wonder at what the other man had said though. Obviously, his hidden feelings for the angel weren’t unrequited. If he stopped to think about it, they probably weren’t all that hidden, at least not back when Cas could still read his soul with a glance. But reading them from his soul and hearing them from his mouth were two different things, in Dean’s opinion. Once the words were said, they were out in the open for all to hear. Silent emotion hidden inside oneself was entirely different.

Dean hesitantly delved into the recovered memories of the night before. There was the kiss, deep and full of unsaid longing; and a lot of exploratory touching on the motel bed, with clothes on, and with clothes off. The memories included every breathy moan, every taste and sensation, every declaration of absolute devotion. 

And fuck if he didn’t realize that the angel was absolutely as gone on him as he was about the angel. 

The problem was multi-faceted. Dean had always acknowledged that he was attracted to both men and women. He had kept it hidden from John, who would never have approved of his son dropping to his knees for other men, and that secrecy had become ingrained in him. He suspected that Sam knew, and knew Cas probably read it in his neurons when he rebuilt him. But if he was going to do this with Castiel, he wanted to do it right. Which would mean acknowledging his attraction to a man. 

With a sigh, Dean ran his hands through his hair. 

Dean didn’t deserve Cas’ love. The other man was an angel, a pure and holy being. A pure and holy being who apparently didn’t have any qualms about homosexual relations with a man who had more flaws than positive character traits. 

And what if Cas didn’t want to be in a relationship with Dean? Was he looking for more? Dean wasn’t content with the thought of being fuck buddies with his angel. How did one go about being in a relationship with an Angel of the Lord anyway? 

It was the snap of a twig behind him that brought Dean out of his own mind. He startled off the railing he had been perched on, and cursed himself for sitting on it as he lost his footing and began to tumble down the hill. He scrabbled for purchase with his hands as he fell, ineffectively grabbing at trees and rocks. 

With a sudden thump, he came to a stop. The last thing he remembered before he lost consciousness was agonizing pain. 

***

Dean hated the smell of hospitals, that sterile yet sickly odor that was unique to them alone. That was the first thing he noticed as he woke up in a strange bed, staring upwards at a string of fluorescent lighting. 

He blinked several times, and attempted to swallow before realizing there was a tube running down his throat. 

“Dean!” Sam’s huge head now loomed in Dean’s line of vision, blocking out the lights. “Hold on, I’m gonna get a nurse.” 

Twenty minutes later, and Dean was sitting upright in his hospital bed, the tubes in his nose and throat removed. He still had an IV line, and his right leg was completely immobilized, but the allowed him to sip water and attempt to visit with his brother. 

“You had us scared to death when you didn’t come back, or answer your phone,” Sam told him as he pulled a chair up beside his bed. “We finally had to activate the GPS on your phone to find you. When we found the car without you, we immediately thought the worst, until Cas found your trail leading down the hill.” 

“How long was I out?” Dean managed to croak out.   
“We found you in the late afternoon that day. You came here that evening and had surgery to repair your leg. That was a couple of days ago. You fucked your leg up bad. You may never have full range of motion in that knee, and you’re going to have to do physical therapy. The damage was too extensive for Cas, with his connection to the Host so weak at the moment.” 

Dean looked down at his leg, which was in a cast from hip to foot, suspended from a loop holding it above the level of his heart. “Son of a bitch. I don’t even know what happened. I heard something behind me, whipped around, and lost my balance.” 

“Well, I’m just glad you’re safe,” Sam said. “Look, I know you and Cas didn’t part on the best of terms. But he’s driving himself mad with worry. Do you want to see him?” 

Dean nodded. “Yeah. Just… give us a couple minutes?” He looked up at his brother, who smiled gently and agreed. 

While he was alone, Dean steeled himself for seeing the other man. Cas loved him, whether or not Dean felt like he was worthy, and nothing was going to change that. Why should Dean keep running away from it? At the moment, he wasn’t going to be running anywhere. 

Cas entered the room like a whirlwind, trench coat flapping behind him as he strode to Dean’s side, his expression grave and worried. 

“Hey Cas,” Dean greeted him. “Sorry about all this.” He opened his arms wide to indicate the hospital room, and his mangled leg, and lifted one side of his mouth to a small smile. 

“What are you apologizing for, Dean? You cannot help your accident. That is why they are accidents,” the angel replied in his gravelly tone. 

“Nah, but I shouldn’t have been out there in the first place. I was being an ass. I shoulda stayed at the motel and talked to you instead of turning and running away,” Dean looked down at his hands. “I’m a fucking coward.” 

Dean heard Cas move, the rub of the arm of his coat on its side, before he felt the other man’s hand on his chin, turning his face so that they were holding each others’ gazes. 

“You are not a coward, Dean Winchester. You are the bravest man I have ever known. You sold your soul for Sam, knowing you would face Hell as a result. You have laughed in the face of Gods and Angels, Demons, and other supernatural creatures, and saved the world on many an occasion,” the angel whispered. “You still live with the ghost of your father’s approval looming over your shoulder, and you don’t believe you deserve anything good in your life. But no matter what you believe, I will not leave your side.” 

“I am sorry, Cas. Sorry that I lost my shit and ran out. That I acted like I was embarrassed of what we had together. I’m not, you know,” Dean grabbed Castiel’s hand then, and squeezed it. “Can we try again, when I’m not plastered?” 

“Of course, Dean - I don’t want anyone else.” The other man answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Broke this second chapter up into two, so you get another one. Might be a little bit before it's up though, gotta finish up my DCBB first!


End file.
